Mr Monk and the One
by Laura Kay
Summary: Set a few months after the series' end, that is, present time. A melancholy Sharona calls a friend she knows she can trust for support.
1. Mr Monk and the Phone Call

Mr. Monk and the One

_disclaimer: not mine._

Sharona sat on her couch, a drink in her hand. The television was on, but she wasn't watching it. Her eyes were instead fixed on the colorfully lit Christmas tree in the corner. The joyful little tree seemed to mock her loneliness, as if it were part of another world, another time, another house that wasn't so vastly empty.

The branches were slightly askew; she'd been impatient in putting it together, and even though it was almost time to put it away again, she hadn't gotten around to fixing it. She stared at the empty space among the artificial boughs, as if willing the branches to bend or for something to fill the void. Empty, empty, she thought.

She reached for the phone on the coffee table and dialed the number from memory. He picked up on the second ring. "Hello?"

"Adrian," she said, then couldn't think of anything else to say, other than how good it was to hear his voice. She took a breath. Her chest felt delightfully heavy from the alcohol. The cool air in her lungs helped clear her head. "It's Sharona."

"Sharona." She could hear the smile in his voice. She loved the way he said her name. "H-how are you?"

She smiled, feeling inexplicably better than she had in a month. "Good. I'm good. How are you?"

"Oh. You know." She imagined him shrugging one shoulder, then the other. "I'm… good."

"Good, that's… good." She nodded, then lapsed into silence. He did the same. "How's Natalie?"

"Oh, she's good, too. Steven moved in about a month ago, and I think they're getting settled."

"Good." She cringed. How many times can a single word be used in a conversation? "And-and the captain? He and TK?" She had talked to the captain's new wife briefly on the phone a few times. She seemed genuine and sweet.

"They're on vacation this week. They went to Big Sur, got a cabin down there. A late Christmas present."

"Oh, that sounds nice. Romantic." Her voice took on a wistful note she couldn't contain. The silence fell between them again.

"Sharona? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, everything's great." Her eyes fell on the tree again. "I was just looking at my Christmas tree, you know? And I realized, it's just a mess. I mean really. You'd be appalled. Crooked lights, and ornaments hung all willy-nilly. And there's this hole, in the branches, that I just noticed and it's just this big empty space, and I was thinking that I really could use some inspiration to get this mess sorted out, you know?" She was grasping at straws really, but it was her habit to babble. It always had been.

"Sharona." His voice was calm, as she remembered it always was when all the pieces fit together. "Leland said he talked to Randy. That you two… that he moved out."

Sharona nodded unconsciously. She took another swallow of her drink. She didn't usually drink, but hey. She wasn't working in the morning.

"Are you… How are you?"

"Oh, I'm great. Just great." She didn't sound it. "He moved out about a month ago, and—" but that line of conversation was no good. She tried again. "You know, Benjy went back to school this week, but I'm working still, and you know. Rum. Rum is helping tonight."

"Sharona." God, he said her name so well. She missed hearing her name said that way.

"Adrian," she cut him off. "I wanted to ask you something."

He didn't hesitate. "Anything."

"I know you'll be honest. You were always honest. Usually when I didn't want you to be. And you know me, you know me better than most people." She twirled the straw in her glass. "I dated so many jerks in my life. I mean, half the time they were involved in a crime. And sometimes they were actually trying to kill me. Real winners."

"Yes, that's true. But not a question."

Sharona continued as if she hadn't heard him. "And then Trevor comes back, and I leave y… I leave everyone out in California to move back here and marry him again. He really had changed. He's a decent man, and really was making an effort. But it still didn't work." Her voice was thick with emotion now, but it didn't slow down her words. "And I thought, well, it just wasn't meant to be. It's nobody's fault, but it just isn't going to work.

"And then Randy." Her voice broke and a tear slipped over her eyelashes. "He's such a good man, so sweet. And he loved me so much. He loved me and I wanted to love him so bad. But I didn't." She could only muster enough strength to whisper the last.

"Sharona." He whispered, too.

She carried on. "So I want to ask you, because you're the smartest man I know. And you'll tell me. What is _wrong_ with me? The only guys I pick are losers. And then the good ones pick me and I still can't make it work? There is something seriously the matter with me. What _is_ it? Why can't I just love a man who loves me?"

"Sharona, there is nothing wrong with you." The emotion was plain in his voice, and also his distress, but his answer came again with no hesitation. "Nothing. You are one of the most caring, loving women I've ever met. The reason you picked those jerks back then was because you have such a big heart. Anyone who met you knew that, knows that. It was the same with Trevor and Randy. They loved you and you loved them, but they weren't right for you. They weren't enough for you. You need more. You deserve more. You just haven't found it yet."

She sniffed, feeling the tears slide over her cheeks as his words slid over her heart. The balm she had needed this past month. "I just haven't found my Trudy yet, huh?"

"What?"

She smiled. "I haven't found my one. The one who makes it all make sense. Who gets all of me. Who makes it better, who I need. Who will take care of me and still let me take care of him."

Adrian listened to this definition and nodded unconsciously.

"Like Trudy was."

"Yes. Like Trudy was." His voice was solemn and caring.

They listened to the quiet between them, neither needing to fill the pause this time. "Thank you, Adrian. See? I knew I was asking the right person."

"I was being honest," he shrugged.

"Like I knew you would be." Her smile was stronger now.

"Are you okay?"

She considered this, her eyes floating back to the merrily lit Christmas tree. "I will be. Like I said, I'm mostly keeping busy with work, but with Benjy going back to school, I just…" she paused. "I just needed to hear from a friend."

"Hey, that's why I'm here."

"And I need to finish this drink," she joked, her smile stronger than it had been for a month. He breathed a soft laugh. "Well. Bye, Adrian. And thanks again."

"You're welcome. Good-bye, Sharona."

They both hung up, and contemplated their conversation, Sharona comforted, Adrian considering.

What do you think? Writers love feedback!


	2. Mr Monk and the Confession

Thanks so much to my reviewers!! And thanks too to the people who are reading even if you don't comment. It makes me happy people are taking the time to read, and I hope I can entertain you. I write only what I would want to read, so I do hope you enjoy, because I know I do!

I would like to note (since I didn't last chapter) that I do like the Randy/Sharona pairing, and I think they could certainly make it work. But I think this is another possibility. And in case you were wondering this is going to be a Adrian/Sharona fic. I purposefully left it open in the last chapter, not sure if I would continue or let it stand alone, but at the insistence of my very kind reviewers, (and a fluffy plot bunny and my own romantic heart) I am back, and the lines are drawn. :)

Mr. Monk and the Confession

On one side of the country, Sharona started a movie, pulled on pajamas and curled up in the middle of her bed. She was asleep before the opening credits had finished rolling. She hadn't slept very well in some time, but the things Adrian had said had soothed her more than she realized she had needed.

On the other side of the country however, Adrian had readied himself for sleep, and climbed into the middle of his bed, but found sleep evaded him. He thought back to his conversation with Sharona. It upset him that she was hurt. He knew Randy wasn't to blame, and he didn't fault the man. He hadn't been optimistic about the pairing in the long run, but he wasn't optimistic about much, and he had hoped he would be proven wrong. They both deserved to be happy. Sharona especially, he thought.

She was a special woman, he acknowledged. She needed a special person to love her. Her one, as she put it. Someone to make her feel better, help her see things more clearly. Someone to take care of her. Someone strong enough to take care of her, he amended, as it wasn't something she tolerated when she could help it.

And more than that, he knew, she needed someone to celebrate with. Someone to weep with. Someone to play with. Someone to yell at, he recalled. She was a woman of many moods. She needed someone who would also let her take care of him. It couldn't be just anyone. Not for his Sharona.

His Sharona? Where had that come from? She had never been his. She'd left without much difficulty, hadn't she? But that was unfair. It had been difficult for her. Very much so. Though he wouldn't have even known that if Benjy hadn't let it slip when he'd talked to the boy over the summer. And he didn't begrudge Sharona the chance to start over with her ex-husband. He couldn't deny he wasn't sorry that that hadn't lasted though. He had never had a very high opinion of Trevor Howe. And he couldn't deny the feeling of loss when he had thought about Sharona, his Sharona, with her ex-ex-husband on the other side of the country.

He finally drifted to sleep with questions unanswered and his unspoken feelings unchecked, and his dreams were full of Sharona decorating a Christmas tree, and someone crying. He wasn't sure if it was Sharona or himself.

* * *

Adrian had breakfast with Molly the next day before she went to work. "How was your night, Adrian?"

"It was fine," he replied, eyeing a table across the restaurant; one of the chairs was only halfway pushed in. "Sharona called me."

"Sharona, your former assistant?" Molly questioned. She'd heard a few stories about the woman, and seen some pictures, but hadn't ever met her.

"Yes, the one and only." Adrian smiled, and slid his eyes back to the off kilter chairs.

"How is she? What did you talk about?"

"She's great. Well, not great, but a little upset, is all."

"Why is she upset? Is something wrong?

Turning his gaze back to Molly, he found it easy to ignore the offensive furniture. "Well you know Randy, Lieutenant Disher who I used to work with, moved to New Jersey? He moved out there to be with her. But it didn't work out."

"So they just broke up? And she called you?"

"She said she needed to hear from a friend."

"That's sweet that she called you. You two must be close. Tell me about her." Molly was suddenly curious. Adrian was always eager to hear about her life, but never divulged much about himself unless prodded.

"Well, she's a nurse, she was my nurse right after Trudy died. She helped me put myself back together enough to get back to work. Then she was my assistant. When I first met her, I thought she was tougher than anyone I'd ever met. And she is tough, but she's also a softie underneath, but don't tell her I said that. She has a son named Benjy, who's a freshman at NYU. He's a great kid." Molly smiled, watching Adrian describe these people. His whole face was lit up at the memories he was replaying in his mind.

"Sharona was patient enough to deal with me at my worst, but never stopped pushing me. She never treated me like I was sick or crazy. Just difficult," he chuckled. "She was always the first person to snap at me if I was having a… moment," he described, shrugging, "but she was always there to defend me if someone else commented on it. She could be very protective."

Molly leaned forward, intrigued. "Is she pretty?"

Adrian answered without thinking. "Beautiful." He seemed to hear himself as he said it. "Beautiful," he said again to himself.

Molly arched an eyebrow at this, but moved the conversation on. "Was she a good detective?"

Adrian chuckled. "She had her moments. She had good logic, something that you can't pick up in the academy. And she could read people pretty well, unless they were a single male. But she was best at being a friend, a partner."

"She sounds like she was very important to you."

"She saved me. After your mother… She brought me back to life. I owe her… so much."

Molly smiled craftily. "So she's very important to you, and she's a good friend, and she calls you when she's upset, and she's single… and you think she's beautiful?"

Adrian's heart jumped to hear it explained like that, and to see the same sly look that he recalled from Trudy's face. "Oh that's—she's just—just Sharona, just my Sharona." There, he'd said it again, and now there had been a witness. He nervously started cleaning his fork with his napkin.

"Your Sharona?" Molly reached across the table to cover his hands with hers. "Is she yours?"

"She's—no, she doesn't belong… I mean…" He petered off, withering under Molly's eager gaze, just as he always had under Trudy's. "I guess she's as much mine as I am hers."

Molly's giddy expression melted into caring wonder. "You're hers?"

Adrian stared at her, mind racing. That hadn't been what he had meant, but now that she asked, how was he to answer a question that he never dared ask himself? But searching her eyes he only found reflected in them the spark of truth he had only just realized. Across the room a couple was seated at the table with the crooked chair, and as the one askance was righted, his thoughts clicked into place. "What—what if I am?" He was asking Molly something he hadn't even dared ask himself, and he looked at her intently. Her face lit up and she laughed breathlessly. She jumped up out of her chair and ran around the table to hug him.

"Adrian! That's wonderful!" She sat down in the chair next to him and kept hold of his hand. "I'm so glad to hear that. You deserve to have someone love you and take care of you and be with you. You've been alone for too long."

Adrian couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm, but even as he did his eyes were sad. "Your mother…"

"No, no, Adrian Monk. I never met Trudy, but I know without a doubt, that she would only want you to be happy, and she certainly wouldn't want you to be alone forever." He looked searchingly into Molly's eyes, so like Trudy's, wanting to find a sure answer there. "And besides," she went on, "don't you think she could be the one who's leading you to Sharona?"

Looking at the daughter that his late wife had brought him, as Natalie had said, so that he had someone to love, he knew that Trudy was still guiding him. And who was he to argue? He pulled Molly into a hug, thanking Trudy again for the girl's presence in his life.

Adrian pulled back. "So. What do I do now?"


	3. Mr Monk and the Plan

Quick note: Ted Levine is in _Shutter Island_, a very small part but he is by far my favorite part of the movie! And how did it take me so long to realize that Molly is Jo from Supernatural?

Chapter Three: Mr. Monk and the Plan

Molly drove Adrian to Natalie's house on her way to work, and explained very quickly about the conversation they had had at breakfast. So quickly in fact that Adrian had very little chance to interject any of his own thoughts. Natalie had much the same reaction as Molly had; she yelped with joy and jumped up from her seat to hug Adrian tightly around the neck.

"Oh Mr. Monk, that's wonderful! I _knew _it! I knew when she came to see you that you two had feelings for each other! When she and Randy started dating I thought I must have just been crazy, but I wasn't, I _knew _it!" She hugged him again, and Adrian started to feel that he was rather approaching his limit for physical touch for one day.

"All right, all right," he said, reverting to his shoulder shrugs to restore balance. "But what do I do now?"

Molly chimed in, smiling at her friend. "He has to go see her!"

Natalie clapped excitedly. "Definitely! He should surprise her!"

"Oh, yes! A surprise visit, show up on her doorstep! It's perfect!"

Adrian rolled his eyes, completely unacknowledged by his companions.

"But how can we plan it?" Molly continued. "We have to find out when she's home, and get him there on his own, without her knowing…"

"Well, we could ask Randy, he's still out in New Jersey and he probably could help us, but it seems…"

"Yeah, not very…"

"Benjy," Adrian mumbled, more to himself than the women, as they were paying him no mind.

They did hear him however and leapt at the idea. Molly had to leave for work, but she kissed Adrian's cheek and made him promise to call her when he had any plans. Natalie called Julie at school, who squealed so loudly Adrian could hear her on the phone from across the room. Julie sent Benjy a message on Facebook, who happened to be on the site at that very moment, avoiding his first assignment of the semester, and who started a chat to get the full scoop. He was thrilled to hear about the recent developments, and, he admitted to Julie, not completely surprised. He told her that his mother had Tuesdays off, and gave him the quickest directions from the airport to her house. Mr. Monk would have to take a taxi, but he promised there were plenty of clean ones in New Jersey. Julie repeated this to her mother, who wrote it all down for Adrian, whose head was spinning at the speed of which his previously unrecognized feelings were being recognized by so many people.

He couldn't take it anymore. "Stop, Natalie!"

Natalie turned, her eyes wide. "I'll call you back, sweetie." She flipped her phone shut. Adrian slumped on the sofa, in a classic sulking pose.

"Mr. Monk, what's the matter?"

"This, all this, it's crazy," he moaned. "I say one thing about having feelings for Sharona, and suddenly you've practically booked my flight? And now everyone knows, oh…" He flung an arm over his eyes melodramatically.

"Oh, Mr. Monk, it's not crazy, and it's not just one thing." She sat on the coffee table in front of him, patting his knee to get his attention. She had known him for a long time, and wasn't about to let him talk himself out of something that could make him truly happy. She decided on full disclosure. "Mr. Monk, you know when I first met you, I was convinced you had been involved with your former assistant?" He looked doubtfully at her. "It's true. The way you talked about her, the look that crossed your face when someone mentioned her name."

"How did I look?" His voice was meek.

"You would get this light in your eyes, like you were almost going to smile, and then this flicker of pain would shoot across your face. I didn't understand at first, but I think it was because you kept remembering she was gone, and it hurt you all over again.

"You know, I was so mad at her at first," Natalie moved to sit on the couch next to him. "I couldn't believe how she had left you, just walked away from you, when it was so obvious—in my mind—that you loved her. I really thought that she had walked out of a relationship, not just resigned her job. But after time went on, I thought I must have been making things up, you know? The romantic in me imagining feelings that hadn't been there. But seeing you together when she came to visit? I think that's why I got mad at her," she said, a little embarrassed remembering how catty the two women had acted. "I went right back to being angry at her for breaking your heart."

Natalie reached over and patted his arm. "Mr. Monk, I've known you for a long time now. And I know that you don't do or say anything if you don't mean it. And you certainly wouldn't say something about having feelings for Sharona—or anyone—if it wasn't true, if you didn't really believe in your heart. So I'm going to ask you right now: think. Do you or do you not have feelings for Sharona Fleming?"

He stared intently in her eyes, as if he could find the answer reflected there. He thought about her question, and even more about the questions Sharona had asked the night before, and the questions she had raised in her own mind. And he knew the answer.

He smiled.

"Yes!" Natalie clapped in excitement and refrained from hugging him. "That's why you have to go, Mr. Monk, and don't worry, not everyone knows, and none of the people who do know will say anything, I'll make sure of it. Now let's buy that plane ticket!"


End file.
